


Delilah

by AdhdBarryAllen



Series: Green Light [2]
Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Reminiscing, Then That Sad Shit, Zinda is a lesbian mkay, she tells Guy all her issues tbh, that gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdhdBarryAllen/pseuds/AdhdBarryAllen
Summary: She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman Zinda had ever seen, perhaps.She danced without abandon to the fast-paced music the band provided. Zinda, watching from her place at the bar, was inexplicablydrawnto her. This woman, she had her own rhythm to life. She had her eyes on nothing but the moment.(Zinda remembers.)





	Delilah

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to delilah by florence and the machines and i was like wow that reminds me of a gay i know. and then this happened. it wasnt meant to be sad im really sorry???

She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman Zinda had ever seen, perhaps.

She danced without abandon to the fast-paced music the band provided. Zinda, watching from her place at the bar, was inexplicably _drawn_ to her. This woman, she had her own rhythm to life. She had her eyes on nothing but the moment.

Typically, ladies didn’t come to a place like this unless they knew how to handle themselves. The Peacock was a run-down joint in the nasty part of town, but It was one of the few bars that still allowed Zinda through its doors, despite how many brawls she was responsible for. Over the years, Zinda had become a regular. The bartenders knew what she drank, the patrons tried (and failed) to flirt with her on the regular, and the band played ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ for her every time. After this long, Zinda knew every face that frequented The Peacock. But this woman was a mystery.

Her clothes were too nice for this place. This bar was filthy, it was dangerous for a lady after dark. But by the way she moved, brimming with confidence, it was hard to imagine her choice of bars as anything but intentional. Her pleated skirt spun with her as she danced, her dark, perfect curls threatening to shake loose of their up-do. It was positively _mesmerizing_ to watch her move.

She had noticed Zinda’s gaze by now, despite all efforts to be subtle. A mischievous smile brightened her face as she signaled for Zinda to join her. Zinda shook her head, laughing. She was _not_ a dancer. She could drink with the best of them, but when it came to dancing, she was more lost than a first grader in calculus. And yet still, the woman beckoned.

She made her way over to Zinda’s seat, taking her hands. “ _Dance with me_ ,” she whispered.

Before Zinda could protest, she was moving to the beat of the drums. The woman guided her along, showing her when to step and when to twirl, all the while never letting go of Zinda’s hands.

Her hands were rough, her nails chipped, but it did nothing to hinder her perfection. She wasn’t a housewife; no housewife’s hands were calloused like these. She was a working woman, and Zinda’s admiration for her only grew.

“What’s a gal like you doing in a dive like this?” Zinda asked between steps. “This aint exactly the place for pretty women to be after dark.”

“I’m looking for _adventure_ ,” she said with a wink.

Zinda’s heart pounded dangerously. “Then you’re talkin’ to the right gal.” she grins, calling to the bartender and holding up two fingers. He nods and pours them each a shot.

They collected their drinks, taking a brief rest. The woman’s dark skin shined under the lights. Zinda wasn’t sure how to strike up conversation; she was too caught up in the girl’s presence. She smelled like jasmine, Zinda noticed faintly. To an outsider, the pair was lost to the outside world, occupied with only each other. Zinda tucked a stray lock of hair behind the woman’s ear, smiling softly. Her hand lingered for a moment before she took it back, face flushing.

“Zinda,” she said. “My name is Zinda.”

“Delilah,” the woman replied.

“ _Delilah_.” Zinda loved the way it sounded, on her tongue and in her head. “A pretty name for a pretty woman.”

Delilah laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself, _Zinda_.”

Zinda would have given up the world just to hear Delilah say her name like that forever.

She got to her feet, alcohol humming fresh in her veins.

“Dance with me?” she asked.

“I thought you weren’t a dancer,” Delilah chuckled.

“I aint, but for you I’ll be anything,”

They filled their night with dancing, with feather-light touches and no worries of the past, future, or the world around them. Perhaps they both knew this was the only night they had together. Zinda was shipping out in the morning; it was doubtful she would ever see this wonderful woman again. She counted herself lucky that their paths had crossed, even if it was only for tonight.

The evening had winded down; only a few hours to sunrise now. The band played a slow song, likely the last of the night. Delilah’s head rested against Zinda’s shoulder as they danced, never letting each other go. They knew how this would end—the sun would rise, the band would pack up, the bar would close… and they would leave.

Maybe when Zinda returned they would meet again. But for now, all she could do was hold her close and _dance_.

+++

“Did you ever see her again?” Guy asks, his hands combing gently through her hair. Her head lies in his lap, comfortable against his thighs.

Zinda shakes her head silently. “When I came back, the bar was gone. Some barber opened up in its place.” She lets out a jagged sigh. “Do you think she ever thought of me?”

“I don’t know, doll, but you aint exactly an easy gal to forget.”

She laughs at that. “I loved her some, didn’t I.”

Delilah was the the first woman she loved, perhaps.

Guy smiles, saying nothing. This is Zinda’s puzzle to solve, and he’s never been one to tell a person how to feel. She’s got a lot of loss to work through, more than most people could know. She wears her smile like a mask, and its only with Guy that she lets her guard down. He listens. He always listens.

“Maybe in another life, we woulda’ been together. Get a cat, live all domestic, I don’t know.”

“Maybe so,” Guy says as he wipes the tear from her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“I’m being stupid, sorry,” She says. “I didn’t even know her last name, but she was just… perfect, ya know? And she’s long dead by now, just like everyone else I knew.”

Guy doesn’t have to say anything as he holds her in his arms, letting her cry. It’s enough.

_It's enough.  
_

**Author's Note:**

> guy helps zinda come to terms with being a lesbian and accept herself byeeeee  
> update: if this were to be put on the timeline, i'd say it takes place (zinda telling guy the story, not the flashback itself) when she was working at warriors and guy would be a sort-of therapist when she needed


End file.
